Apollo and Daphne
by TheLaziestWriter
Summary: The Ottoman Empire wishes for Heracles to tell him a story of his mythology. Fluff, oneshot, minor language. Sadiq/Heracles, Turkey/Greece, TurGre.


**TheLaziestWriter — TLW**

**I apologize for any historical (lol furniture) and mythological inaccuracies of this fic.**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia and its characters belong to Himaruya.**

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**Apollo and Daphne**

"Come, Heracles, and sit upon my knees," beacons the Ottoman Empire to his young charge, "and tell me of your stories." Sadiq is sitting on a large, plush ottoman next to some lit candles on the balcony. The ottoman is wide and red with gold embroidery on its edges, and it satisfies the desire of Sadiq for consistent luxury. Judging by the slouch of his back, Sadiq is at peace. He sits beneath the black, velvet night with burning bright stars sewn in the sky. For such a warlike man, he seems to be admiring the stars with a curiosity and fondness unbefitting for a fierce empire but rather an old wiseman.

Heracles decides not to speak, but only to obey grudgingly. The Greek boy does not wish to disturb the tranquility of the Ottoman Turk. As he sits on the lap of Sadiq, their weight combines, allowing them to sink somewhat on the ottoman. Heracles withholds his tongue as arms loop around his waist, and suddenly he feels annoyed. Without doubt there is enough room for himself to sit on the ottoman besides Sadiq. There is a brief silence between them before Heracles realizes Sadiq is waiting for him, and he goes through the many mythological stories of his people of Gods and Goddesses and wars and love in his head.

"Well?" The voice of Sadiq is not impatient, but gently urging Heracles to think more quickly. The boy thinks for a minute longer before he decides which story to tell, but his story is at a cost.

" . . . I will tell you of Apollo and Daphne. However, you must first remove your mask," Heracles bargains.

Heracles could see the eyebrows of Sadiq furrow behind his mask. Next, he feels the older man chuckle and the arms around his waist retract. For whatever reason, the charge does not turn to see what Sadiq appearance is immediately. When he does turn, he is met with the amber eyes of the Ottoman Empire which are more pronounced with his white mask removed. Surprisingly, Sadiq is fairly handsome. Heracles had thought Sadiq hid his face because he had a monstrous appearance. Perhaps the mask is merely decorative?

Those arms return to their original places after the Ottoman Empire lightly tossed his mask onto the ground. The mask does not break as all possessions of Sadiq are not allowed to do so. The view of Heracles returns to the night sky with a barely visible redness to his cheeks. "Apollo and who now?" asks Sadiq.

Heracles begins to tell the story, stammering at first, "T-the tale of Apollo and Daphne. Apollo is the God of the sun and music, and he is a great warrior. Apollo's curse was brought upon him by young Eros, the God of love, whom Apollo chided for playing with a bow and some arrows. Apollo said that weapons were only for worthy men, and that weapons were none of a child's business.

"Eros was unhappy with what Apollo had said, so he took two arrows. One was made from lead which incited hatred, and the other of gold which incited great, passionate love. With his bow and arrow of lead, he struck the nature nymph Daphne, and with the gold one, he struck Apollo through his heart. Apollo fell desperately in love with Daphne, however, in turn, she despised him. Although, she dismissed any other potential lover in favor for woodland sports as well.

"But Daphne's father Peneus wished for grandchildren, and Daphne begged Peneus to remain unmarried. Peneus reluctantly agreed, but he warned his daughter that 'her face will forbid it.' Apollo continued his pursuit of Daphne, and he was helped by the intervening Eros. Daphne had realized that Apollo was catching up to her, and she called to her father to change her form of beauty to escape such danger.

"Daphne's skin turned into bark, her hair became leaves, and her arms became branches. Her feet turned into routes which grew into the ground. Apollo embraced her branches, but they shrank away from him in her disgust. If Apollo could not have Daphne as a wife, then he would have her as his tree. He vowed to take care of her, to make her evergreen, and her leaves would decorate the crowns of leaders and be engraved onto the swords of warriors."

More and more as Heracles tells the story, Sadiq is more keenly interested. The young charge had such an deep and dramatic way of telling stories that in itself was very endearing to Sadiq. When Heracles finishes his tale, Sadiq could only sit and ponder over the tearful tragedy of the unrequited love of Apollo to Daphne. The boy was winded by the intensity of how he told the story to the Ottoman Empire, almost as if he had been trying to please him.

" . . . How was that?" asks Heracles tentatively.

"Good," says Sadiq simply. Sadiq would never admit this to Heracles, but he thought that the Greek tales could easily compete with his own Turkish folklore. Heracles pouts. "What? It was a cute story!" Sadiq purposefully rests his head on the shoulder of Heracles and rubs his stubble on his cheek of the young boy.

"H-hey!" Heracles pushes his face away, appalled. "Your beard is itchy and it tickles, bastard. It was 'cute?' Absolutely offensive. Do you even comprehend how sad that tale is?"

"You are never satisfied with a one-worded answer, are you?"

"Never will I be satisfied with just 'good.'"

"Then, tell me more of your stories, Heracles; I enjoy them. Perhaps I could tell you a tale of my people as well."

—

* An ottoman is a seat that does not have a back or arms, which was brought to Europe by Turkey in the late 18th century (late 1700s). It is cushioned and its cloth covers its legs, and often it is used as a stool or a footstool. Nowadays, ottomans accompany chairs when purchased and used to rest the feet.


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